Microfilm in the Fishtank

Barry Craig, confidential investigator. Tharing William Cargan. Barry Craig speaking, detectives come in three sizes. City cops, big agencies, and guys like me with a small office and an insurance company retainer to pay the rent.

Cops don't have to worry about getting cases, and the big agencies have branches from here to Shanghai. From where I sit, you never can tell why your next case will come from. Last week it started with my old brown suit.

I'd been on a bodyguard case and the suit looked as if I'd been sleeping in it for a week. And with a good reason for that, I had. I tucked it under one elbow and ducked into George the Taylor's.

George had a king-sized shoe box in the basement of my office building. Morning, Mr. Craig. Hi, George. What can you do with this suit? If you like hearing bone handkerchiefs, I could maybe salvage enough goods.

All right, so I'm not Adolf Montju. How about it? Jersey with the spots of Thursday. Okay, there's no say a mr. Craig. I wanted to ask you I've got a problem. Well, what is it? George got a pair of plaid blacks with no coat to my no no I'm serious my wife says George you go to the police

But she wasn't here when that man came what man what's the pitch George the man said I need protection shake down the man said I've got to pay $50 a week to stay open he says George you wouldn't want trouble maybe a bottle of acid spilled on your act as you pay them well i didn't have

fifty dollars i told him to get out now i'm scared mister krai you're a detective i want to hire you you protect me not work george stopping a protection racket is a big operation you need twenty four hour guard the whole set up to protect all the shop though i could pay an installment